


Domestic Simplicity

by OkamiShadou98



Series: Lucifer One-shots [14]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Cuddles, Deckerstar - Freeform, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Humor, Lucifer can make even grocery shopping sexual, Step-Devil, snuggles, soft chloe, soft lucifer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-12 09:21:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28758027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OkamiShadou98/pseuds/OkamiShadou98
Summary: A look into an average Saturday for Chloe and Lucifer after six months of dating. Includes morning cuddles, food shopping, and movies on the couch.Literally, just a bunch of domestic Deckerstar.
Relationships: Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar
Series: Lucifer One-shots [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1673098
Comments: 48
Kudos: 259





	Domestic Simplicity

**Author's Note:**

> Finally I have written a fic with zero angst! And they said it couldn't be done. I haven't much to say about this except for this is probably everything the show won't be able to give us and I wanted to write it all out.
> 
> Special thank you to MorningStarGirl666 and Smoothmove76.
> 
> I hope you all enjoy and let me know what you think!

The alarm clock on the bedside table shrieked its dire warning, piercing the peaceful silence of a moment ago. Chloe’s hand shot out to quiet the racket with a firm tap to the button on top of the device. Blinking gummy eyes, she raised her head to survey her bedroom. The curtains were closed, in difference to her bedmate, who loathed being awoken by light. Still, the edges were bright, promising another typical, sunny day. 

A grunt behind her made her freeze but when it wasn’t followed by movement, she relaxed. Good, she’d been afraid the alarm had woken him too but it seemed she had been quick enough this morning. There was a lot to do today and she didn’t need Lucifer to slow up proceedings.

With precise movements born of practice, she slid one leg to the floor, inching towards the edge of the bed. She was nearly free of the covers when a large arm wrapped firmly around her stomach, dragging her back. Her back smacked into a warm chest, a face pressing into the back of her neck.

“Too early…” his lips moved against her skin as he spoke, voice muzzy from sleep.

“Lucifer, it’s past eight. I need to get up.” She wriggled but his grip only strengthened. 

“No. Stay.” He slurred the words, already dropping off again with a deep sigh. As if to make it harder for her to escape, his legs curled up behind her own, one of his feet moving to pin down her calves. 

She pulled against him half heartedly but already knew it was hopeless. Lucifer may not have been one for cuddles initially but he’d become a man possessed not long after they’d started dating. He rarely fell asleep now without holding onto her and though he might migrate back to his own side of the bed during the night, he always returned.

It was adorable. Expect when she had to pee. Like right now.

“Luciferrrr,” she growled but all she got in return was a snore. How did guys fall asleep so fast? “Babe, seriously. C’mon.”

She reached behind her, swatting at his shoulder impatiently. He shifted again, sounding more awake this time as he yawned practically into her ear, breath heated like it’d come from the belly of a great fire breathing wyvern. Everything about him was hot, actually. Heat wafted from his skin and became trapped beneath their blanket. Yet another reason to escape, she’d begun to sweat.

“It’s Saturday,” he grumbled. “Wanna sleep.”

“And you can tomorrow. Saturday is an errand day, Sunday is a lazy day, remember?”

He shook his head, scruff rubbing against her neck. “Thirty more minutes.”

“Ten.”

“Twenty-nine.”

“Seriously Lucifer, ten. Dan is dropping off Trixie soon.”

“Twenty-eight?”

She couldn’t help but laugh. “You know, you really suck at compromise.”

“Well if you’d just listen to reason, there wouldn’t be need for it.”

Grinning, she twisted in his grasp, Lucifer loosening his hold once he realized she wasn’t intending to escape. Face to face, she took in his bleary eyes and messy hair, doubting she looked much better. Curls were falling across his forehead, sat jauntily atop his ears. Despite his irritation at her refusal to sleep until noon, he was smiling softly, that look of ease and contentment that was just for her. He so rarely said he loved her, the words still cruelly foreign to him but when he smiled… Well, actions had always spoken louder than words to her and she knew every quirk of his lip, every moment he pulled her close, was him telling her in his own way.

“Good morning,” she said. 

One of his brows was a mess, bristled strands of hair stuck up every which way from being pressed into his pillow. She reached up and used her thumb to restore order with careful strokes. His lashes fluttered against her skin as he blinked, tickling her. He did have lovely lashes, long and adding a delicateness to his eyes. No, not delicate. She stopped petting him as she tried to find the proper word. 

Lucifer wasn’t one to be still for any length of time though and no sooner had she dropped her hand that he was leaning forwards, head tilted to kiss her. 

It was hardly more than a moment, really. A soft pressure and release, ice skating across a window before disappearing. But in that moment there existed a lifetime. His lips were always soft despite the fact he used no balms, uncracked and unblemished in a way that she’d thought existed only in books. For all the alcohol he drank, his breath never soured. For all the force he could muster, this being who could stop cars and throw men like baseballs, his lips were no stronger than butterfly wings. She categorized each of these details, committed them to a part of her brain, a poem for her to peruse at her leisure. 

Then his lips slid away as he pulled back, those few flecks of gold in his otherwise dark eyes all but glowing.

“Exquisite,” she whispered.

“What’s exquisite?” he questioned, resettling on the pillows, pulling her along so she laid on her stomach across his chest, their noses practically touching.

He never seemed to tire of this. Every morning, every night, he treated them all the same. A gift. It bled from him, awe and appreciation for these simple days. If she could package it for him, she would. So long as he was willing to share, of course. Because every morning, every night, was a gift for her as well.

“Your eyes,” she said. “They’re pretty.”

Another man may have taken offence but Lucifer had never been one to see genders in words. Call him handsome and beautiful in the same breath and he’d accept both descriptors with delight.

“Pretty are they?” he asked. “Darling, have you seen your own?”

She giggled, the line dreadfully cheesy. Knowing Lucifer never lied though, made even these small comments memorable. It wasn’t something he was just saying, he wholeheartedly believed it.

“Yup, I have. And I still think yours are pretty.”

His lips lifted with her words. He may pretend otherwise but Chloe knew he was as starved for genuine compliments as he was for physical touch. So she told him every day the things she loved about him and hoped he’d one day internalize it all, that one day, he would see what she saw.

Close as they were, she noticed the shift in his eyes, when warmth was eaten by desire. When his lips met her this time, they were more insistent, a promise of his special brand of fun. She indulged him for a moment or two, as always, swept away by the fever he showed for her. When his hands crept down her sides, she regretfully broke the kiss.

“Ten minutes,” she chastised gently.

He huffed in good humored annoyance. “We didn’t say precisely. You can round up to, oh, say, an hour.”

He leaned in for another kiss but Chloe slid out of his arms, escaping from the bed. She felt his hands following after her, the fabric of her shirt sliding through his fingers, but he let her escape with a bark of laughter.

“Trixie will be here soon,” she repeated, collecting her clothes for a shower, opening the curtains and turning on the light.

Lucifer had flopped back in bed, taking up the entire mattress as he laid dead center. “I think Daniel drops her off early on purpose.”

She threw a pair of flannel pajama pants at him. “I don’t think so. And put those on before you leave the bed. I’m tired of the neighbors calling because you insist on walking by the open windows naked.”

“You’re just jealous they keep asking if we’re swingers,” he said smugly. “Besides, it’s not my fault your bedroom windows face directly into other houses! I keep trying to find new properties for us with a bit more room.”

“And I keep trying to tell you that I won’t even consider moving until Trixie starts middle school. That’s when she’ll have to change districts anyway. Besides, we’ve only been dating for six months. We don’t even live together full time and you want to get a house together?”

“Well, I can’t tell a realtor I’m looking for a property that will be available in four years.” Instead of putting his pants on, he’d draped them over his face to block out the light. “And from where I am, this looks plenty like living together.”

Chloe pursed her lips, unable to outright contradict him. His clothes hung in her closet, his razer had its own spot on the sink vanity. She did his laundry - or what little that could be washed - as often as she did her own. They had their own unofficial parking spots in the driveway and their favorite blankets in the basket by the couch.

Even more than objects was the presence of Lucifer himself. He’d spent nearly every night in her bed since she’d deemed it appropriate enough with Trixie around. Once a week, he might stay at the penthouse if his set ran late and he wanted to sleep in, but otherwise he was the last person she saw at night and the first person in the morning. He cooked, he cleaned, and he helped Trixie with her homework. His name wasn’t on the lease but it may well have been for all the time he spent with them.

It was a fantasy, one Chloe wished she’d given herself to earlier. And yet, she couldn’t deny that spark of anxiety that burned away in her stomach, fed by old fears like crude oil. No one collared the Devil, no one _should_. So long as he made the decision to stay, he was free. Living together, any sign of permanence, would it inspire him to run? Five years she’d known him, six months of dating, and still she couldn’t understand that need flaring in his chest, that urge to roam and explore. She accommodated it the best she could, gave him the space he wanted, rare as it was. 

Lucifer raised the edge of the pants to expose his eyes. “Darling, are you waiting for me to join you?”

She rolled her eyes but soothed the gesture by adding a caress to his blanket covered feet. “Go back to bed.” She turned the main light off again for him as she headed into the bathroom.

Half an hour later, she re-appeared, fully dressed and ready for the day. Lucifer was up as well, flannel pants on properly as he sat on the edge of the bed and tapped away on his phone.

“You could’ve started breakfast,” she said casually, tossing her dirty clothes in the laundry basket.

He shrugged, eyes still trained on the phone. “Was waiting for you. You never told me what you wanted.” His phone made a few noises and he huffed at the screen.

“Lose your game?” she asked, grabbing a pair of socks and sitting beside him to pull them on.

“Fixing inventory issues. Some idiot has been underbuying again.”

She eased away from him, trying to be casual. “Maybe you should go to Lux and see to it in person?”

“Nope.” He pocketed the phone. “All sorted.”

“Are you sure?” She didn’t want to press but as far as she was aware, he hadn’t stopped into the club for six days at least. As much as she loved his company, she hoped he wasn’t abandoning the other parts of his life to be with her. She could handle a few hours without him.

“Patrick will solve things. He’s a smart fellow, despite what his man bun implies.” He pulled a face, following her downstairs to the main room. “Besides, as you said earlier, today is errand day. I can’t very well allow you to suffer the joylessness of grocery shopping without myself to entertain you!”

“I managed to shop all on my own for a good fifteen years,” she said dryly. With a hip check, she steered him towards the door. “Go and get the paper? I’ll make breakfast today.”

She remembered a moment too late he wasn’t wearing a shirt, which never boded well in a complex full of couples. Sure enough, she could hear Lucifer speaking cheerily to Mrs. Whoever next door. 

“The paper,” she called and he re-appeared, paper tucked under his arm.

“It seems Veronica’s husband is on vacation,” he noted, sitting down on the stool and unfolding the paper with a flourish.

“Veronica?”

“The woman next door. The redhead who keeps inviting me over.”

She almost dropped the frying pan. “She invites you over?”

“Just about every morning. Today she was getting the mail in a bikini. Last week she decided to sunbathe at eight in the morning.” His face was hidden by the paper but Chloe was almost certain he was laughing at her. “Have you really not noticed?” 

“No, I’ve never seen her do anything like that. Smart of her, considering I have a gun,” she said darkly, cracking a few eggs.

“You’d shoot a woman to keep me? I’m honored. Though, I believe that gesture is seen as more insane than romantic in this day and age.”

“So that means, what, ten neighbors have propositioned you now?”

“Eighteen, actually. That is, if we’re counting couples separately.”

Suddenly moving didn’t seem quite so bad. Not that she ever thought Lucifer would cheat on her but she didn’t know what would happen if he denied some of the more desperate neighbors. Someone might try to kidnap him or something.

“Fried or scrambled?” she asked instead. “We’re out of vegetables for omelettes.”

“Fried. With toast. And sausage. Actually, do we have bacon too?” 

“You’re single handedly doubling the food bill around here. D’you know that?”

“I’ve already offered to split costs with you,” he sniffed. 

“And I might have to take you up on that.” She opened the fridge only to find that the gallon of orange juice she swore was there yesterday was now gone. “Lucifer, really? You drank the entire container of orange juice?”

He shrugged. “I wanted screwdrivers. Which reminds me, we’re out of vodka. And sliced turkey. But that is entirely unrelated to the orange juice.”

He was lucky he had that divine metabolism or whatever. Secretly, she’d hoped his vulnerability would extend to his weight as well. It wasn’t fair he got to eat whatever he wanted without consequences. But he was as immaculate as always, sculpted from freaking marble. Why hadn’t being a miracle have given her that kind of perk?

Cooking breakfast finished off the contents of the fridge and Chloe was thankful that Trixie was eating at Dan’s. She sat beside Lucifer, who wordlessly handed over the sections of the paper he’d finished with. The comics went on his right, prepared for Trixie’s arrival.

Chloe was still reading the paper, Lucifer off doing the dishes, when the front door opened and Dan and Trixie appeared. They talked for several minutes, Lucifer joining them, before Dan left for his stakeout.

Leaving Trixie to bug Lucifer, Chloe took her overnight bag upstairs and pulled out her clothes for the washer. Sorting them, she went to her own room and collected her hamper. When she had enough for a proper load, she let the machine run and re-appeared downstairs. 

Lucifer was still in the kitchen, glaring at a flickering bulb. Reaching up on tiptoe, he tapped it sharply and the flickering stopped. His ability to “turn anything on” as he said, also extended to certain objects. He could get a few weeks more out of a fading lightbulb, which was a talent Chloe had never realized was so important until he’d begun doing it regularly.

Trixie was off in her room, an occurrence that had only recently started. Despite telling herself she was prepared, the small signs of her daughter becoming a teen were still alarming. Fortunately, while she was increasingly becoming the “bad guy”, Trixie still adored Lucifer. His rebellious nature clicked perfectly with the newly moody teenager. Though, Chloe had begun to set more serious boundaries. Lucifer’s liquor stash above the fridge was now locked up and he was only allowed to smoke on the back patio. Small precautions - Trixie had never shown any sign of wanting to misbehave like that - but Chloe wasn’t willing to tempt fate, especially when her own teenage years spent as an actress had invited all sorts of bad habits. 

“Do you want to shower before we go?” Chloe asked Lucifer, already knowing the answer. Even though he was getting more comfortable with being, well, comfortable, he still refused to leave the house unless properly groomed.

He gave the lightbulb one last withering look before heading upstairs, ignoring Chloe’s shout for him to not take too long.

Temporarily free of distraction, Chloe set about doing a few chores, dragging out Trixie to do some of her own. She vacuumed, foregoing dusting for the time being, and then straightened up. The stack of bills on the counter begged for attention but she deferred them to later. The faint beeping of the washer drew her upstairs. Turning off the machine, she went to her closed bedroom door and opened it a few inches.

Teaching Lucifer modesty hadn’t been an easy task. He’d forget the most basic things, like closing doors, for one. Thankfully, even he understood the inappropriateness of wandering around naked when there was a child. There had been only one or two close calls - all of them with Dan, for some strange reason - before he’d figured it out. Chloe had given him a pass, well aware there were literally no doors in his penthouse.

The water was running as she opened the door but the moment she stepped into the bedroom, it shut off. She smirked to herself. Either Lucifer had heard her or he just had truly remarkable timing. Retreating, she moved the clothes from the washer to the dryer before going back to check on him. This time, she knocked before opening the door. 

“Hey, you almost ready?”

“Nearly,” he said from where he stood before the closet with a towel wrapped around his waist. Steam still emanated from the bathroom, thick and heavy in the harsh light.

She slid inside, closing the door in case Trixie wandered upstairs. “Trying to pick out a suit?”

He huffed, rifling through what he called his “insufficient” options. Chloe had given him half the closet and though he hadn’t been able to bring all his clothes with him, he had a dozen suits and shirts of varying colors as well as space for four pairs of shoes. To her, this seemed perfectly reasonable but Lucifer didn’t share the sentiment.

“My burgundy shirt is at Lux,” he complained.

She eyed the closet. “Well, if we really try, I guess we can squeeze it in here. In the meantime, you can wear the red shirt instead.”

“Crimson Lake,” he said under his breath, inspecting the shirt. “The color’s Crimson Lake.”

“Right. So… wear it?” She didn’t miss a beat, well accustomed to how bratty Lucifer could be about clothes.

“I don’t have a suit that’s the correct grey.”

Chloe could see at least four grey suits from where she was but she didn’t comment. “What about purple?”

He shook his head. “Today is not a purple day.” His hand trailed down a charcoal shirt thoughtfully.

She sighed, not ready to plunge into an intricate discussion about color but wanting to hurry him along. “Okay, and why isn’t today a purple day?”

“Because purple doesn’t match your ensemble at all!” he said, now sifting through his pocket squares.

She looked down, realizing she had picked out a red shirt for herself earlier. It hadn’t been something she’d noticed, just the first piece of clothing in her closet that wasn’t too professional looking for a day of errands. But of course Lucifer had noticed. It was unsettling sometimes, how he paid more attention to her than she did herself. He replaced her shampoo in the shower before she’d even realized she’d begun to run out. He recorded her favorite movies when they were on TV. He even had a decent grasp of her cycle, hot water bottles and Advil appearing on the counter once a month like clockwork.

“If I change my shirt, will you wear the purple one?” she asked, already yanking the fabric over her head.

Lucifer made a noise in the back of his throat that might’ve been agreement but was probably more appreciation for getting to see her shirtless. Either way, it shut him up long enough for her to press the purple dress shirt into his hands while she pulled out one of her own.

“You know,” he finally said, “these still don’t _quite_ match. Perhaps you should take that shirt off while I find something better. Oh, the jeans too. Just in case they need to be changed as well.” 

She swatted him. “The point is to get _more_ clothes on, not less.”

Lucifer looked down at his towel. “Well, technically I’m already at zero so-”

“ _No_.” She shoved him playfully. “Now hurry up or the store will be overrun by families with children. _Small_ children.”

He shuddered and Chloe held back a laugh. Despite spending time with both Trixie and Charlie, Lucifer’s aversion to kids still hadn’t abated in the slightest. At least he wasn’t trying to play fetch with them anymore, that was an improvement.

All in all, it took Chloe another hour to get Lucifer and Trixie into the car. The two of them had a way of double teaming her. The second she’d go to see if Trixie had finished her chores, Lucifer would get distracted by the television. And when she got him back in the bathroom to finish styling his hair, Trixie had decided _now_ was the perfect moment to start her art project for school. Then there was the argument of who would drive, what music they would listen to, and whether or not the windows could be opened.

Suffice to say, Chloe was regretting her decision to take them with her long before the car had even left the driveway.

As she’d warned, the store was packed when they arrived, just finding a parking spot its own sort of adventure. She ignored Lucifer’s insistence they take one of the handicap parking spots and parked on the far edge of the lot, nearly back on the main road. Trixie leapt from the car, small things like taking a walk still exciting to her, while Lucifer scoffed, unimpressed.

“Are you quite sure we couldn’t have parked at least a bit closer,” he grumbled, taking an exaggerated step over a pothole and eyeing it with fierce fury.

“It’s a nice day, stop complaining.” She linked her arm through his, weaving their fingers together. “Can’t you just try and enjoy yourself?”

He looked down at their linked hands, expression softening. His grip tightened as they strolled through the parking lot, joining the thin stream of shoppers heading in the same direction. They only parted when they collected a cart, Chloe pushing while Lucifer stayed stuck to her side, tucked in close to avoid the other people milling about.

Automatic doors swung open to accept them, a blast of artificial cool air hitting Chloe full force along with the earthy scent of produce and the sharper sting of cleaning products. Goosebumps erupted across her skin and she regretted not bringing along a light jacket.

“Trixie, don’t wander,” she cautioned, directing their cart carefully through the people loitering just inside the entrance, where a selection of sales items were being showcased.

Chloe skipped the section, unwilling to do battle while hindered with two other people. Well, she reasoned as Lucifer twisted sideways to squeeze through, it was more like three with his bulk figured in.

The crowding eased significantly as they entered the long stretch of the produce section. Chloe checked her shopping list.

“Okay, Trixie, do you want to pick out what apples you want? Just get four or five, okay?” she said. Trixie darted off and Chloe kept one eye on her as she inspected the oranges. “Lucifer, do you have a preference?”

“Clementines,” he said, picking through the limes and tossing a few into the cart. 

In this way they meandered through the fruits and vegetables, sending Trixie off to get things within eyesight. Lucifer kept up a commentary at her side, remarking on other patrons, the selection of foods, and ancient dishes he’d like to try making again. The backdrop of his voice, soft and mellow yet still cutting through the squeak of cart wheels and the cries of small children, was like a blanket enveloping them.

So Chloe immediately felt the absence as she paused at the carrots and Lucifer stopped talking and wandered off. He reappeared a moment later, something hidden behind his back.

He opened his mouth but Chloe cut him off. “You better not have an eggplant.”

“Oh please, as if I’d be so predictable!” he huffed.

She narrowed her eyes. “Or peaches.”

“And what if I do?” he asked, meaning her guess had been correct. “We’re in a grocery store. Buying food is the whole reason for our visit.”

“Because in all the years I’ve known you, never once have you touched a peach unless it was to make a sexual joke. Now put them back.”

“Just because you’ve never seen me eat one doesn’t mean I hate them.” He stuck the two peaches he’d been hiding into the cart, arranging them crudely at the end of one of the bananas Trixie had picked out.

Chloe shook her head in exasperation, moving the fruits to a less suggestive location. They were in public! And while Lucifer could charm his way out of virtually any situation, Chloe really didn’t want to risk an altercation with an overprotective mother.

She was thankful when they neared the end of the produce section. Even Lucifer, oozing sex appeal as he was, couldn’t make anything in the baking section lewd. Not that she would dare say that aloud - he’d take it as a challenge and she had already made her feelings about food in the bedroom perfectly clear. _Six times_.

Grabbing a bag of potatoes at random, she turned to find Lucifer nearby, loitering by the melons. He was looking over the cantaloupes, and seemed utterly unaware of the two women sliding closer to him, that familiar dazed look on their faces as they eyed him hungrily. 

It wasn’t his fault, she knew. Lucifer wasn’t actively trying to make himself enticing, it was just that Devil magnetism he possessed. Unfortunately, they still hadn’t figured out how to turn it off and often their outings resulted in him catching the eye of at least a few people - the more brazen even offering him their number while she was standing right there.

Lucifer had noticed his observers. He offered them a polite smile and continued toying with the melons. Rather than abandon him, the two women drifted even closer, until they were crowding into his space, practically caressing his suit jacket. 

Chloe wasn’t jealous, if anything, she felt bad for Lucifer because now he was shooting her a faintly panicked look that clearly read “don’t get mad, it’s not my fault!” And she wasn’t mad, not with him at least. At Lux or the precinct, he was charming as ever but there was a politeness to him now that hadn’t existed before. He didn’t invite flirtation to the same degree, his role as a host starting and ending at that precipice of formality. 

So, she didn’t interfere, watching as Lucifer slid free of the women and trotted back to her side, a cantaloupe in his hand. He cleared his throat but she saved away whatever he was about to say. It didn’t matter. She trusted him and anyone with common sense would’ve noticed he’d been uncomfortable with the attention.

Wasn’t that a strange notion? Attention seeking, always needing to be the loudest in the room, Lucifer Morningstar had shied away from two adoring women. But these moments had been happening more and more often ever since they’d begun dating. Lucifer, she knew, no longer wanted everyone to look at him. The only one who seemed to matter anymore was her. He may be a showman but when he played his piano in Lux, she was the one he focused on, his every smile, every raised brow, for her alone in a sea of faceless audience members.

Lucifer was rolling the cantaloupe in his hands in a familiar gesture. Actually, it sorta looked like-

“Why are you fondling the melon?” she hissed, taking it from him.

His back had been to her before but if this was what those two women had seen, no wonder they’d approached him.

“I wasn’t fondling!” he protested. “That’s just how I hold melons.”

She narrowed her eyes slightly. “Seriously? You were rubbing your thumb on it like you-” She cut herself off, her face heating.

Lucifer’s face broke out into a lecherous smirk. “How I what, Detective?” He took the melon back from her unresisting fingers, toying with it. “Though, now that I feel it properly, it _does_ bear a similar weight and size to an exemplary pair of breasts which I’m thoroughly acquainted with.” He eyed her chest almost hungrily, pianist fingers dancing across the melon’s surface.

“If you don’t put down the cantaloupe, I will make you wait in the car for the rest of this trip,” she threatened.

He chuckled, setting the melon in the cart just as Trixie re-appeared with the last few vegetables they needed. Chloe all but chased them into the next section of the store, thankfully health and beauty aids. While she shopped for shampoos and soap, Trixie and Lucifer began to bug one another rather than her. 

Their banter carried them through a good portion of the store, allowing Chloe to focus on more important things, namely, finding the on sale items. Her salary as a detective was nothing to be ashamed of, but she was acutely aware of how there was less money now that Maze had moved out. Despite Lucifer insistence, she refused to take his money. It would be different if they were living together but she didn’t feel comfortable with him paying rent when his name wasn’t even on the lease. 

They had only one issue in the cereal section, where Lucifer and Trixie had dissolved into arguments over what to get. While Trixie was drawn to whatever had the most sugar, Lucifer liked the colorful cereals that would turn the milk different colors. Chloe had to overrule them, choosing something a bit healthier in spite of their whines of protest. She refused to be swayed, even when the two of them took up identical pouting expressions. When the two had learned to double team her, she didn’t know, but she had to keep her wits about her. One pout was cute but two was almost enough to melt her heart. Almost.

At the checkout line, she allowed Trixie to pick out a piece of candy, which started Lucifer also demanding sweets. And when she told him only one, he promptly threw another plastic divider on the conveyor belt and added no less than thirty candy bars on his side. Chloe knew she was blushing but the cashier seemed to think the whole display was just about the most adorable thing she’d ever seen. How did Lucifer get away with being so childish?

When they left the store, Lucifer swinging two plastic bags full of candy merrily, she sighed. He got away with it because he _was_ adorable. Irritatingly, revoltingly, adorable. She didn’t know if she wanted to hit him or kiss him. She compromised by kissing him on the cheek when they reached the car and then leaving him to load the groceries.

The drive home was mostly silent, mainly because Lucifer had brought his bags of candy with him in the front seat and he spent most of the trip munching away on chocolate. Trixie’s hand periodically appeared at Chloe’s elbow and Lucifer would hand over a candy bar for her as well. 

“You guys are going to spoil your lunches,” she commented when she glanced at the rearview mirror and saw Trixie unwrapping her third piece of chocolate.

Lucifer shrugged. “Why can’t this be lunch?”

“Because candy has virtually no nutritional value, that’s why.”

“Humans need sugar, yes? And,” Lucifer flipped over his wrapper and looked over the nutritional content critically, “the package clearly says this contains plenty of sugar.”

“Humans also need iron,” she muttered. “That doesn’t mean I should chew on nails.”

“That would be counterproductive, I agree. Mainly because the majority of nails are made of steel, not iron.”

She threw him a look. “And how do you know that but not understand people can’t just eat candy?”

“I prefer to learn on a needs to know basis and I assure you, dietary concerns rarely came up in Hell unless it pertained to food allergies.” He went to hand yet another candy bar to Trixie, whose hand had appeared between them again.

“Uh-uh, Monkey. No more or you’re going to make yourself sick,” Chloe said and Trixie huffed but withdrew her hand.

Lucifer chuckled. “Jealous?” he asked. “I did buy some for you as well.” And he reached into one of the bags to withdraw a handful of Chloe’s favorite candies.

She hadn’t noticed at the store, his choices seemingly random, but he’d managed to get at least one of each of her favorites from what she could tell while driving. The urge to take one was strong, but she was keenly aware of Trixie’s penetrating gaze all but drilling holes into the back of her head.

“Like I said,” Chloe said smoothly, “no more junk food before lunch.”

Which turned out to be the right call as by the time they returned home, even Lucifer didn’t seem excited by the prospect of eating a full meal. They put away the groceries and then Chloe made herself a small salad for lunch. Trixie disappeared off to her room to finish her art project, but Lucifer kept her company at the table, nursing a glass of bourbon. When she finished eating and moved to do the dishes, Lucifer wandered outside to smoke.

She joined him soon after in the small gravel space that served as their yard. The space was lackluster, a high fence blocking the neighbors and a patio table squeezed in on uneven stone pavers. Yet Lucifer owned the space as he did anywhere else, somehow managing to look like he was at a premiere party as he leaned on the side gate to get just a glimpse of the canals of Little Venice that backed onto the row of condos.

She came up beside him, catching sight of the contemplative look on his face. “What are you thinking about?” she asked, bumping his side gently.

Lucifer swapped hands, his right now holding his cigarette as his left wrapped around her shoulders and pulled her close, thumb stroking her arm.

“You know, when I came to Earth that final time in 2011, I landed on the beach hardly a mile from here. Strange, of all the places you could’ve chosen to live in the city, you ended up so close. And there,” he pointed to a spot on the horizon in the direction of the beach, “would be where I cut off my wings. And where I burned them, later.”

“It’s also where we first kissed,” she said quietly, looping an arm around his lower back.

He laughed quietly. “It is. You tracked me down using my phone, if I remember correctly.”

“Well, you had a habit of running off. I should’ve put a tracking anklet on you when we first started working together.” She was quiet for a long moment. “Is that why you like that spot? Because it’s where you officially started your vacation?”

“A bit,” he said thoughtfully. “But that’s not all of it. When I came to Earth that time, it was the middle of the night. And after eons of hearing screaming and rattling chains and whip cracks, suddenly everything was so… peaceful. The surf, the scrape of the sand, I’d almost forgotten pleasant sounds still existed.” He shifted, drawing her in closer. “And then I looked up and I saw, of all things, the stars. Not many because of this blasted smog but a few. My creations just hanging there, waiting for me…” he trailed off and took a final puff of his cigarette. “It was as if I’d spent my entire life running and suddenly everything stopped, the race was over. The ocean, the wind, they demand nothing. They merely exist, two of the greatest forces of this dimension, and they greeted me like an old friend.”

Even now, these moments were rare, when Lucifer would just ramble on without purpose or destination. He was a man who put all his energy into the present in the hopes of erasing the past, overlaying memories like his mind was a computer hard drive. But where once bitterness had always clung to his reminiscing, thorns dug into his tongue, now there was a separation. The past wasn’t able to hurt him the way it once had and while Chloe would never dare take all the credit for this change, she knew her and Trixie played a role. Just as Amenadiel. Linda. Maze. Eve. Even baby Charlie all had as well.

It was most obvious here though, when it was just the two of them. These instances where he was so unburdened, she’d almost say he was at peace. Finally, at peace.

“When you’re finished out here, do you want to watch a movie?” she asked.

“I thought today was errand day?”

“There’s nothing I need to do that won’t hold until Monday.”

He looked down at her. “And we still get to sleep late tomorrow?”

She rolled her eyes but her laugh ruined the expression. “Yes, we can sleep in late. I don’t know why you’re so hyper focused on that. Eventually you’re going to have to get accustomed to getting up a bit earlier.”

“It’s not that, though I don’t know why anyone wants to be awake before ten at the absolute earliest.”

“Then why?” She was surprised. He wasn’t even remotely a morning person and she’d always assumed that was the reason for his love of sleeping in.

Lucifer leaned over, his lips grazing down her forehead, the tip of her nose, to rest on her own lips in an unhurried, almost lazy kiss. His rhythm was slow and gentle, the rocking of a boat in a lake, and she picked it up, moving against him in that familiar dance they’d already perfected.

All too soon, he drew away, humor glimmering in his eyes. “The longer we’re in bed, the longer I get to hold you.”

She wasn’t sure what her face did after she heard that revelation but Lucifer smiled, teeth just peeking out from behind his lips. It was an uncharacteristically boyish look, almost bashful.

“I do like morning cuddles,” she said.

When Lucifer dragged her back into bed most mornings, she’d assumed it was just him being playful. He’d never voiced a true desire for her to stay, always yielding after she protested, especially on work days.

“You know,” she continued, “we don’t have to set an alarm _every_ Saturday. If we time it right, we can do more lazy weekends. Trixie certainly won’t mind getting to sleep later.”

“That would be most agreeable to me.”

They spent a few more minutes together before they came inside to watch a movie. Trixie joined them, Lucifer taking his customary place in the middle. They picked something to watch at random, more interested in the time spent together than the specifics of the movie. Lucifer kept up his usual commentary of unrealistic moments, Trixie questioning him in depth. Chloe herself was mostly quiet, just enjoying hearing their banter and the natural way it flowed.

Movie time slid naturally into dinner and far too quickly it seemed, it was nearly eight at night. There were still things that needed doing - dusting in particular had been left for far too long - but Chloe found she didn’t have the energy. Lucifer had already retired to the armchair tucked in the corner of the living room, legs neatly crossed as he read a book.

Of all Lucifer’s quirks, this was the one Chloe had been the most surprised by. She’d always assumed the bookcases at the penthouse were more for decoration than anything else. So she’d been nonplussed when books had begun to appear in her home without rhyme or reason.Tracing it back to Lucifer had been easy enough but still, seeing him doing something quiet for any length of time had been a real reality check for her, getting to see him in his most relaxed state.

She’d gotten him a proper bookshelf for Christmas, despite his aversion to the holiday, and three months later, it was already filled to bursting. Books were now stacked on top, spilling into piles on the floor. When his re-birthday or whatever came around, she’d get him another one. She wasn’t quite sure where it would fit - maybe by the dining room table? 

The benefit to dating a reader, however, was it has inspired her to also take up the hobby. She’d always been fond of reading but it had fallen by the wayside when Trixie had been born. Now, she approached the shelf, looking through her choices. Each book had a different colored sticky note tucked between the pages. Lucifer had started doing it a while ago to label the books he thought she’d like. A blue sticky note meant he was convinced she’d love the novel. Green was a maybe, yellows were cautions, and red meant she would absolutely hate the book with every ounce of her being. How he’d thought of the system or why, she didn’t know. He’d just started doing it one day and hadn’t stopped since.

A dog eared thriller with a blue sticky note caught her attention and she took it with her back to the couch, laying down to read for a bit before bed. She wasn’t alone for long before Lucifer abandoned his chair to join her, poking her legs until she moved them enough to let him sit. She resettled her legs on his lap and one of his hands fell to rub her ankles.

As always, Lucifer’s knowledge of her literary preference was impeccable. She knew instantly why he had chosen the book for her. It followed a female cop working on a career defining case. Unlike many thrillers, she found the procedure and crime details to be realistic. Not perfect, but close enough to not make her cringe. 

She would have prefered to have stayed here for hours, Lucifer making little noises in the back of his throat when he disagreed with something in his own book. Every once in a while, she’d take a break from her reading to study him. Whether he knew it or not, he made expressions as he read. His brow would lift in disbelief on page only for his tongue to poke out as he read the next.

Eventually, these moments of studying him became longer than the reading and she admitted defeat, setting aside the book and stretching her arms above her head. Lucifer marked his spot with a long finger, looking to her questioningly.

“I’m turning in,” she informed him. “But you can stay up.”

As she knew he would, he closed his own book. He closed the curtains as she turned off the lights, leaving only the small one under the kitchen cabinets on for Trixie who, despite what she said to the contrary, was no fan of the dark.

They retreated upstairs, Chloe ducking into the bathroom first to wash up and change. When she reappeared, she found Lucifer in his boxers, disconnecting the alarm clock from the wall with undisguised glee. 

“What are you doing?” she asked, toothbrush still in her mouth.

Lucifer was looking around the room, alarm clock in his hands. “You said we could sleep late.”

“So you’re kidnapping the alarm clock?”

“Precisely. Even when you don’t set an alarm, you’re always checking the time in the morning.” His gaze rested on the wardrobe she used to store sheets and linens. Approaching it, he reached up on tip toe and set the clock on the top, well out of her reach. “This way you’ll be able to relax.”

“I am relaxed!” she protested, retreating back into the bathroom to wash her mouth of toothpaste.

Lucifer stuck his head in. “No, you’re not. Sometimes it feels like I’m sharing a bed with a coiled spring, not a human.”

“You’re so lucky you’re cute,” she said with a mock glare.

But he only brightened. “Of course I am!” His energy, even this late at night, seldom abated.

“You don’t have to go to bed just because I am,” she gently reminded him, turning off the bathroom light.

But Lucifer was already in bed, fussily arranging his pillows. “You say that every night.”

“It’s just a reminder. You have choices, that’s all,” she said, sliding onto her side.

He looked over at her. “Don’t you know, Chloe? I choose you, _always_ choose you.” And he laid down matter of factly, eyes closed, as if he thought she was stupid for not already knowing this. 

She did know. He showed every day what he’d chosen. Every breakfast he spent with her, every movie night with Trixie. But hearing him say it lit something within her, a fierce, unexhaustive flame.

“And I choose you too,” she whispered. “I love you.”

His eyes quirked open, those long lashes fluttering against tanned skin as he cocked his head against the pillow, mussing his hair. “I love you too.” The words, still somewhat foreign, came out heavily, with the precision of a non-native speaker. He’d said these three words but a dozen times, each delivery was a bit stronger, a bit more confident.

She couldn’t wait for the day it just rolled off his tongue, a natural part of his day.

But in the meantime, she had no issue waiting.

She laid down on her side facing him and he wasted no time curling up beside her, their legs tangling together as he pulled her into an embrace. His chin was tucked on top of her head, her face nestled in the hollow of his throat. She could feel his strong pulse against her skin in this vulnerable position, but there was safety in it too. An emotional safety in their willingness to share, to leave themselves utterly open.

His body quickly warmed their cocoon but Chloe drifted off long before that point, completely and utterly at ease in his arms.


End file.
